When I Dropped Out At 20, My Sister Told Everyone: “She’s The One Who Didn’t Finish.” Twelve Years Later, I’m Yale’s Dean Of Admissions. One Essay Read: “My Family Moved Past My Aunt’s Setback.” The Name? Amanda Chen. My Niece. I Picked Up My Red Pen And…

who made me feel like I wasn’t crazy for wanting this.” That sentence stayed with me more than the sales numbers. I was still not rich. Publishing remained an industry built on overeducated panic and too many tote bags. But the work became mine in a deeper way with every year. My apartment got slightly bigger. My coats got warmer. I stopped thinking continue reading …